Smell of Safety
by Phantom of a Rose
Summary: 'The broken dresser in their room still smells like her perfume...sometimes I'll sneak in there and open all the drawers and lie in on the floor and close my eyes and just smell her.' Kurt's new house doesn't smell like his mother anymore. Klaine


**Just an idea I thought of this morning. I was thinking about how Kurt felt moving from the house he most likely lived in his whole life, then I thought of the broken dresser that he told Finn about in "Ballad". This is the quote: **

_**Kurt: My dad's the same way. My mom died ten years ago and he still keeps her toothbrush on the holder by their sink. The broken dresser in their room still smells like her perfume. I know it's stupid but sometimes I'll sneak in there and open all the drawers and lie in on the floor and close my eyes and just smell her.**_

_**Finn: That's not stupid.**_

**So I just started writing and this is what I got. I hope you like it. **

**GLEE**

Kurt waited ten minutes after he heard Finn leave before he left his room. That was enough time for Finn to come back because he forgot his keys, wallet or anything else he was likely to forget.

Their new house was completely quiet. Even after a few months of living here, Kurt still didn't know if it was truly…his yet. Kurt opened the door to his room and walked into the hall slowly, being sure to take careful and quiet steps, despite the fact he was alone in the big house.

Down the hall and to the right, the room right next Finn's, was the guest room. There was a full sized bed, decorated to Kurt's standards, and a broken dresser in the corner, it's wood worn and lightened with age.

Kurt opened the door to the room slowly, looking at the dresser intently. Then he took a deep breath, closing his eyes and remembering when the newly formed family of four moved into this house.

"_Dad, where are they taking mom's dresser?" asked Kurt as two big men pulled the fairly large dresser up the stairs and in the opposite direction of the new master bedroom. "Careful!" he hissed to one of the men as the set the dresser down in what was now the guest room. _

"_Kurt," said Burt with a frown. He sighed and asked the men to just continue bringing furniture in and that he would supervise them in a moment. The men left, leaving Kurt and Burt alone in the new guest room. "I've been thinking about this for a while now, Kurt," said Burt, rubbing the worn wood of the dresser with his hand. "I just don't think it's appropriate for me to have this in mine and Carole's room."_

"_It's mom's dresser," said Kurt, staring at the piece of furniture with watery eyes. _

"_Exactly, Kurt," said Burt, resting a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "This dresser was the first thing your mom and I bought together as a married couple. At some antique store. I love your mom and I always will, but I can't have this dresser in the room that my new wife and I share, kid. I need to…move on."_

"_You mean forget her," said Kurt in a bitter tone. _

"_Never forget her," said Burt firmly. "I will never forget her. But Carole and I need to build a life for ourselves, which is based just on us. That's why Carole is letting Finn have his dad's chair in his room, not the living room, and why later today Carole and I are going shopping for a new dresser."_

_Kurt stared down at the carpet. Though he knew what his dad was saying was right, of course he would never forget Kurt's mom, it still hurt. _

"_Are you ok, kid?" asked Burt after a moment. Kurt nodded and mutter something about understanding and he should go tell the movers not break anything. "Ok," said Burt hesitantly, turning to leave the room. _

After decorating the guest room a few days after the move, Kurt hadn't been in here since.

But after all the stuff that had been going on lately, Kurt need his mom. There was only one way that Kurt felt close to his mom, really close, and that was smelling her.

Kurt strode over to the dresser after taking a moment to gather himself. He leaned over and started opening all the drawers, which were filled with mostly linens and extra towels. Finally, he lowered himself to the ground, a few feet in front of the dresser and laid down, closing his eyes and breathing in.

He inhaled again.

Again.

Kurt's eyes flew open. Panic settled in his chest.

Why couldn't he smell _anything_?

Kurt sat up in a flash, leaning over to the closest drawer and sniffing it. There was something there, faintly. If Kurt closed his eyes, he could imagine that he smelled the perfume his mom wore…but then it slipped away. The memory faded.

A sob was building in his chest. Maybe it had never actually been the dresser that smelled like his mother. It was the house. The carpet and the walls and the very air. It had been the only place Kurt had ever lived and where he knew his mom.

Now it was gone. Sold to some new and young family. Kurt had seen the little baby the couple had when they signed the papers.

Kurt fell back on the carpet, tears running down his face. He tried to hold on to that memory of his mom's scent. It was something akin to jasmine and the sea breeze. It wrapped around him like a comforting weight whenever his mom would hug him, even linger on his dad's shirts when Kurt hugged him.

The memory tried to embrace him, but it just wasn't there. Not the same as before, when Kurt laid in front of the dresser in his dad's old room, at their old house.

Kurt missed his house, but most of all, he missed his mom.

~.~.~.~.~

"Kurt." A voice pulled him out of the edges of sleep. A heavy hand was shaking him gently. "Kurt," the voice repeated, making Kurt's eyes flutter open.

Above him was Blaine, not frowning exactly, but not smiling, either. "Why are you sleeping on the floor in the guest room?" he asked.

"W-what are you doing here?" asked Kurt, his mouth dry. He licked his dry lips.

Blaine raised an eyebrow at Kurt. Kurt noticed that he was sitting crisscrossed beside him on the ground. "You told me to come over at four. I knocked a few times but no one came. I texted you, too, but you didn't answer. Finally I just looked for the spare key you told me about. Let myself in. Found you here. And once again…what are you doing here?"

Kurt rolled over on his side, not wanting to sit up just yet. "It's stupid," he muttered, not looking at Blaine,

Blaine's hand reached out and took Kurt's in his own. "Try me," he said with a chuckle.

So Kurt told Blaine how he used to sit on the ground and smell his mom's perfume by the dresser, usually when he was lonely. "I haven't done it for a few months," said Kurt quietly. "But I just…I feel so….I just want my mom. Even though things have gotten better lately, I just want her." Kurt eyes flickered up to Blaine. "Even just to…tell her about you."

Blaine smiled down at him, reaching up to smooth back Kurt's hair. Kurt accepted the comforting gesture with a resigned sigh. Only few people were allowed to touch Kurt's hair and only recently had Blaine become one of them. "I don't think that's stupid, Kurt," said Blaine gently. "It's just…how you cope. And I'm honored you even want to tell your mom about me."

"But it doesn't work anymore," said Kurt brokenly. "I can't smell her anymore. I don't know why…maybe it had just been my dad's old room, not the dresser…but I can't smell her. I can't…" Kurt didn't know how to say it.

"You can't feel close to her without smelling her?" asked Blaine and Kurt nodded. "You can still be with her without smelling her, Kurt." Kurt looked skeptical. Blaine sighed and straightened out his legs, bending down on his elbow and then laying next to Kurt. Blaine let his arms open and Kurt scooted himself closer to Blaine instantly, letting Blaine's arms encircle him. "Close your eyes," said Blaine softly and Kurt followed the order.

They were silent for a long moment before Blaine spoke again. "Think about her, Kurt," said Blaine. "Her hair and her eyes and her scent. Think about how she made you feel and let it wash over you."

The images came faster than Kurt thought they would. He remembered how beautiful she was and how she held him and laughed with him before bed. How warm she was when she hugged him, like how Blaine hugged him now.

"Mrs. Hummel," said Blaine suddenly, making Kurt almost open his eyes in shock. "I'm Blaine Anderson," he continued. "I'm your son's boyfriend and I've always wanted to meet you. The way Kurt speaks of you…well, I know how much he respects and loves you. I know he wasn't lying in how beautiful you were, inside and out."

Kurt hugged Blaine closer to him, his face burrowed in his shirt. Though his eyes were shut, they stung with tears. Kurt never knew that Blaine…

"Do you really want to meet her?" he asked.

"Your mother? The woman who must have made you the boy that I fell in love with?" asked Blaine, brushing his lips against Kurt's ear and making him shiver. "Of course. I want to thank her for you."

Kurt remained silent for a long moment, trying to…absorb all this.

"Mom," Kurt said with a shaky voice. "This is Blaine. He's my boyfriend and…I love him." Kurt swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut almost painfully. He could see her, on the inside of his eyelids, as beautiful as the day Kurt last saw her. "And I know you would love him, too."

One of Blaine's arms moved away from Kurt for a moment, to bring his hand to Kurt's chin. Blaine brought his lips down to Kurt's, kissing him soundly.

"Thank you," Kurt murmured against those lips.

"You'll always remember your mother, Kurt," said Blaine, barely responding to his thanks. "You don't just need a smell to be close to her."

Kurt swallowed, opening his eyes for the first time. "I'll try to remember that." Blaine's eyes opened, looking at Kurt fondly, then kissed him again.

Kurt rested his cheek against Blaine's chest again, as the two boys just lay on the floor for just a little longer, soaking in the moment. He breathed in and then he recognized it.

Blaine always smelled the same. In the many months that Kurt had known him, he hadn't changed his cologne once, though Kurt also knew that Blaine didn't particularly use that much cologne in the first place. Perhaps one spray in the morning. But it blended into a scent that was just so…Blaine, perfectly.

Kurt inhaled, breathing in that scent. He remembered smelling it vaguely the first day he met Blaine, as they were walking through the hallways of Dalton, then again the second time he saw Blaine when he sat next to him on the slightly damp steps at McKinley.

The scent accompanied Blaine after that, every time Kurt saw him and got close enough to smell it. The smell began to blend with the smell of coffee and Kurt didn't realize it, but it had become the smell of comfort and safety. Whenever this smell was with him, nothing bad could happen, because it meant that…Blaine was there, arms ready to wrap around him and a warm cup of coffee in his hands, offering it to him with a smile.

Kurt hugged his boyfriend closer, letting the smell of Blaine envelope him like the embrace they were in now. He closed his eyes and thought back to how the smell of his mother would embrace him in the same way during their hugs. It felt the same, in a way, because it was the smell of comfort and safety…but it was also different. Because this was Blaine. Not a mother and not a hug of a mother. It was the hug of another human being that loved him.

So maybe Kurt had lost the smell of his mother, but the memory of her could live on. There was still the broken dresser, that when he saw it Kurt could remember how all his mother's accessories had laid out across it, and also the pictures and Kurt's own memories.

Now, however, Kurt had a new smell to cling to. One that wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.

Kurt was sure that Blaine noticed how he was breathing him in, but he didn't mention it. He just held Kurt closer and let him do it. Because he knew how Kurt was. He knew how he thought and acted and everything about him, it seemed.

Kurt had never felt more vulnerable and _safe _then in that moment.

**FIN**

**I hope you enjoyed this little fic. Please review with feedback. **


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